


Sunshine (Always/Never)

by rachel614 (orphan_account)



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, But I’m really serious about the angst here guys, F/M, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, I ALWAYS do a happy ending, Post TFP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-02-08
Packaged: 2019-10-24 09:36:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17701904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/rachel614
Summary: He remained silent. She knew what he wanted to say, the words that had hung between them for weeks.She would do anything to keep him from saying them.——————————————Sometimes, an apology is not enough.





	Sunshine (Always/Never)

**Author's Note:**

> I swear I set out to write something pure fluff, and then I wrote the first two words and was like okay nevermind then guess we (they) are doing it the hard way

“I’m sorry.” She watched him as he stood in the window, looking out on the rainy street. (It always seemed to be rainy, these days.) She saw his shoulders hunch slightly, and her eyes stung.

She tried again.

“I should never have said that. Not from me. Not to you.”

He remained silent. She knew what he wanted to say, the words that had hung between them for weeks.

 

She would do anything to keep him from saying them.

 

She tried, desperately, wracking her brain to find the words, any words, that would make him look at her. She knew, knew what they were, knew what she must tell him—but not like this. ( _Never_ had she thought like this.) She choked on her grief instead, and as the silence stretched something in her crumbled and she fell to her knees, weeping.

 

She didn’t know how long it was before gentle fingers raised her chin, wiped her tear-stained face. His eyes were solemn. Tired.

“I am not a machine, Molly.”

“No—“ she sobbed, “I know you’re not, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—“ She clutched at him, wrapping her fingers in his shirt. “Please don’t leave me. I’m so sorry.”

He drew in a ragged breath. Pulled her to him, his arms tight around her and his face buried in her hair.

“ _Never_ ,” he whispered. She felt a sudden dampness by her ear, and realized with a shock that he was crying.

“But we’ve been fighting—so much—and I was _so afraid._ ”

“Me too,” he told her, his voice hoarse. He held her tighter, rocking her in his arms. “I’m not an easy man to live with, Molly, I know that. I’ve never understood how you could love me for so long, when I’ve given you so little. I’ve always—“ he broke off, a sob shuddering through him, and he pressed his face into the crook between her neck and shoulder. She clung to him in silence, letting him rock her back and forth as he found the strength to continue. When the words finally came, they were soft and ashamed. “I always thought that you would leave me. That you would look at me one day and realize you were wasting your time, and that the real Sherlock Holmes was unworthy of your love. Unworthy of you. When you said—what you said—I thought that this was it. That you were finally done. God, I’m so sorry, Molly.”

“Never,” she wept into his shoulder. “I’d never leave you, Sherlock. I’ve always loved you. Loved the _real_ you. Not the high function sociopath, or the consulting detective—just _you.”_

“I know. I’m such a fool. You always see me.”

“Just—say it again, Sherlock. Like you mean it.”

“I love you,” he said. (He always did, when she asked.) “I love you,” he said again. (And he _never_ said it just once.)

He held her until her tears slowed and her breathing evened out and she could lean back and look him in the eye.

His eyes were solemn, still—but filled with tenderness. She swallowed.

“I’m pregnant, you know,” she said.

She watched as his eyes widened, almost comically. She bit her lip, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed, hard.

“I—I _really_ didn’t know,” he managed.

“I didn’t mean to tell you like this,” she said, and couldn’t stop a tear from dropping. He lifted his hand, and brushed it away with a featherlight touch, wonder growing in his face.

“A baby. Our baby. He’ll be so beautiful.”

She smiled through her tears at his happiness. “I love you,” he said, wiping her face again. “I love you. I love... _you,_ ” he said, and brought his hands down to caress her stomach, his face still caught in that beautiful expression of wonder. (He would always say it thrice, then and forever after.)

She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him down for a long, sweet kiss. He made a sound that was half-sob, half-laugh, and stood, pulling her up with him, and sweeping her in a waltz around the room.

After a breathless few minutes, he came to a stand and just held her in his arms. (He would never, never let her go.)

 

And their tears and laughter mingled, like sunshine in the rain.

**Author's Note:**

> I do actually have a fluffy, slightly cracky piece written, but it needs to be typed and edited, so it may be a while :P
> 
> Thank you for your read, as always. Reviews are appreciated (the more detailed, the better!), and hopefully this didn’t hurt you too much!


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